


Delta Waves

by slotumn



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Childhood Trauma, F/M, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Light Angst, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Sick Fic, Sleep, Tsunderes, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:14:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24546739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slotumn/pseuds/slotumn
Summary: Come to think of it, he stopped expecting kindness from people right around the same time he forced himself into sleeping as lightly as possible.A.K.A. Claude gets severely injured and Lysithea helps take care of him. This is new to him.
Relationships: Lysithea von Ordelia/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20
Collections: Slotumn Portfolio





	Delta Waves

Nearly dying in battle gave Claude his first deep, dreamless slumber in years.

He didn't always stir at the slightest noise or blink in and out of what was more of an extended nap than a good night of sleep. In fact, his mother often described him as "being able to sleep through the end of the world."

Well, he didn't know about end of the world, but at some point, he decided that sleeping through the end of his own life wasn't ideal. Thus began the vigilant nights where he would close his eyes but force all his other senses alert, resisting the temptation to let go and fall into the comforting nothingness, until the stressful dreams (not quite nightmares) that were extensions of his waking thoughts became second nature.

But even that had nothing on being hit in the head, taking an arrow to the thigh, and being stabbed in the stomach, all within a matter of minutes. 

Damn, I hope nobody tries to kill me while I'm unconscious, was the brilliant thought his mind had before blacking out.

\---

When he first woke up, everything was so hazy that he didn't even bother recounting the events or assessing the situation like he usually would have, and instead went right back to blissful sleep.

When he woke up the second time, his throat was dry as parchment and he was so hungry that it hurt, despite all the painkillers he must have been on.

"Care to explain what in the world you were thinking back there, Claude?" came a familiar voice, tone tense but slightly softer than usual.

Look, I took a calculated risk-- I knew it would be dangerous, but the payoff was worth it, and my battalion was there to carry me back to safety, so it worked out in the end, didn't it? he thought.

"Water," he rasped, forcing himself to sit up.

Lysithea sighed and handed him a warm cup, filled with medicinal tea brewed from roots snd herbs. Not the best tasting drink, but he gulped it down too fast for it to linger in his mouth.

"..."

The words were all there, ready in his head, but they all failed to make their way out of his mouth, except for one: 

"Sorry."

"As you should be," Lysithea huffed, pulling down the sheets before laying her hand over his bandaged abdomen.

"Uh-- ?"

"Goodness-- you re-opened the wound sitting up that fast!" she scolded, hand glowing with white magic. "Stay still, I'm going to change the bandage."

As she searched through the nearby cabinet, Claude suddenly became all too aware of the fact that he was half-naked. Which was weird, because plenty of medics saw him shirtless and treated his wounds before, not to mention he was usually confident about his appearance, body included (and used it to his full advantage).

He was usually the one watching out for her (under the guise of teasing), wasn't he? Not the other way around.

"The painkillers probably wore off, so this might sting."

No, not just watching out for him.

Lysithea, of all people, was taking care of him. Personally.

When was the last time he had such luxury?

"Ngh..."

His parents tried to care for him as much as they could, of course, but their duties as king and queen-- especially as a king who married a foreigner and a queen who was the daughter of the enemy-- often kept them busy. The servants and nursemaids who were meant to watch him in their stead often tried to kill him, and the medics who helped him recover from poisoning or stabbing afterwards did that only because that was their job. (Which was better than nothing, he always reminded himself.)

Come to think of it, he stopped expecting kindness from people right around the same time he forced himself into sleeping as lightly as possible.

"There," Lysithea finished wrapping ths fresh bandages around his waist, "now please don't make me do that again. The healers are already plenty busy after battles, you know."

He finally managed to crack the usual grin.

"Yes, ma'am~"

Another exasperated sigh escaped her mouth.

\---

"Say 'ahh.'"

Claude glanced at the spoonful of porridge, then at Lysithea.

"Well, well, is this some sort of revenge for all the times I've teased you and tried to baby you?" he asked, finally able to string together coherent sentences again.

"I'm simply trying to make sure you don't strain yourself more than necessary," she said. "You only have yourself to blame if it feels like revenge."

He shrugged and opened his mouth, honestly feeling a little bit embarassed, but also figuring it would be better to take it in stride. If only to not make things awkward and...

"Hold on, I'll wipe that off."

...continue to be taken care of.

The food disappeared faster than he would have liked, and there was a conspicuous lack of banter all the way through-- so different from their usual interactions.

But it wasn't bad, he thought, not by a long shot.

Perhaps you should try getting injured on the battlefield more, said some dumbass voice inside of him, only half-joking, but he quickly shoved it down. Lysithea was a busy person-- no way she'd do something like this more than once.

(He tried to not think too hard about why it had to be her, specifically.)

Once the bowl was empty, Lysithea poured another cup of medicinal tea and put two white pills on her palm.

"This should be the correct dosage," she said, before holding her hand to his mouth to put the pills in.

He was absolutely not prepared for the sensation of her soft palms against his lips, if only for a moment, nor her hand supporting the back of his neck as she made him tilt his head back to drink the tea. Some of the liquid dribbled down his chin and neck and chest, and he thanked the gods that he lost too much blood for it to go rushing elsewhere when she carefully wiped it away from his bare skin.

"Well? How are you feeling now?" she asked, after putting the trays away.

"Sleepy," he admitted.

Her small hands slowed down his upper body falling into the sheets. 

"Rest well," she whispered. "A lot of people are worried, you know."

"Yes, yes, a few more hours of z's and I'll be as good as new," he chuckled, then paused. "...Are you going to stay?"

Lysithea averted her gaze to open a thick tome and cleared her throat.

"Somebody has to watch over you, since all the other healers are occupied. It may as well be me."

With a content sigh and a small smile, Claude relaxed and took another plunge into sweet, dreamless sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> [LysiClaude week twitter](https://twitter.com/LysiClaudeWeek?s=20)  
>   
> [My twitter](https://twitter.com/slotumn?s=09)  
>   
> One hundredth LysiClaude fic babyyyyy


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